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The girl sank back on the bench and started crying, having put her face into her hands. The demon said nothing pretending to be sad, looking at the building in front of him.
‘What about a pub?’ Vic continued, sobbing. ‘there’s a pub not far from here. It’ll help me to distract myself and forget my problems. I just wanna drink! Do you drink? About if I’m ok – actually, I’m not sure. That’s why I need to get to a pub.’
‘Do I drink?’ Kharon distracted, having looked at the sky. ‘What am I supposed to drink? Coffee? I like coffee.’
‘No, my love,’ Victoria jumped up from the bench. ‘I’m speaking about alcohol!’
‘Alcohol?’ the man asked looking at the puzzled face of the girl. ‘Ok then. Let’s go to a pub. What does pub mean?’
‘This is the place which has no difference with a caf'e. Have you never been in pubs? Are you kidding?’
‘Maybe I have. I rarely look at the titles.’
‘Well, what about bars? Clubs?’
‘I’ve been in a bar.’
‘Perfect. So, there’s nothing new about pubs for you then. Let’s go!’ Victoria took his hand and went ahead.
Kharon followed her. He had still a slight misunderstanding. It could happen to demons that managed to get involved with witches. Ten minutes before the girl, confidently and cheerfully marched before him, pulling him along strongly, had been lying on the bench and Kharon could bet that he had heard her heart stop beating. Now she was rushing forward like a locomotive with unbelievable traction. She looked like she hadn’t had any disease attack and it had just seemed to the demon to have happened.
The faded light was in a crowded place enveloped with unobtrusive music. They hardly managed to find a free table. Fortunately, the reservation was cancelled at the same second when Kharon asked about free tables.
The man looked around and yes, definitely he had been in such kind of places. What the hell difference was how to name it pubs or bars if people did the same things there especially on Fridays and weekends.
Kharon noticed people in Moscow liked having relax on Friday evenings. People got kinder, more smiled, more friendly for a while. Some fights happened at nights and some of them the demon had watched, having fun or being bored.
Despite the traditional vivacity over Moscow Kharon liked being in public places. He had always been into publicity. He was glad that Victoria changed her rules and principles to spend cosy Friday at home, saying that she needed no one and nothing else.
‘What’s your choice?’ Vic asked.
‘I don’t know. There are so many titles which I wanna try. Here is this one – “Bloody Mary”. Why’s she bloody? Why is it Mary? Who’s she?’
‘Are you ready to order?’ a waitress appeared near the table with an old worksheet and tiredness on her face.
‘Bloody Mary,’ Vic smiled at the demon, ‘Pina colada, fried potatoes and chicken barbeque. You aren’t hungry, are you?’
Kharon shook his head. He wasn’t really hungry as he had a perfect lunch with Vasilisa. The demon, who saw Victoria have not less perfect lunch with her boss, was amazed with her appetite especially because the girl hadn’t been noticed to be voracious before.
‘Your Bloody Mary’ the waitress appeared again with a small tray. ‘Pina colada is for you. The hot dishes are later, ok?’
‘Sure, thank you, Anne.’ Kharon intently looked at the reddish drink before his nose and through it at Victoria’s distorted face.
The girl greedily got the plastic tube, swallowing the cold drink, rich with coconut taste. But her eyes fixed at the waitress with a foxy gaze Vic was looking for the name tag all over her clothes but there was no the one. She shifted her gaze at Kharon. The corners of his mouth dimpled in the beginnings of a smile and he answered her with a genial look. Then he felt inside a feeling that people usually had for their other halves.
‘Why?’ he asked, twisted the glass.
‘Drink.’ Her commanding tone confused the demon a bit, but he decided not to play this game.
Kharon pulled a long face and Vic worried a little because of it. The mood was sharply changing to dark and some external factors became a reason for it. At that moment Vic understood that she was the reason of her beloved man’s mood was changing.
Kharon lifted up the glass and emptied it at one gulp with no wince. He continued looking cloudy at the girl.
‘Why?’ he repeated his question.
‘I don’t understand what you’re speaking about.’ Victoria cast down her eyes and touched his hand. ‘You always ask something in a mysterious way…’
‘Why are you jealous?’
‘I’m not.’
‘And now you’re lying…’ Kharon smiled ironically and at once, right out of the blue, grabbed the girl passing by. ‘Anne, may I ask you to bring two more Bloody Mary?’
He held her hand, his beautiful eyes heavily burned into her. The waitress, mouth agape, looked at the hypnotizer’s eyes. With her right hand she pottered around her apron pocket looking for the worksheet and the pen.
‘Sure… Anything else?’ she asked quiet hardly audibly because of loud music.
‘That’s all now.’ The demon burned her with his eyes, reading her mind which was separated to be for and against that was happening.
The man let her hand and started studying Victoria. Anger was rising inside her and that was visible with the naked eye.
‘You’re not jealous now, are you?’ he asked spitefully. ‘Come on, dear, lie to me again and I’ll demonstrate your lie for you.’
Vic turned away. The damn waitress. Vic was annoyed with the rival’s presence and her own inabilities to control her feelings. Anne came back in 5 minutes with two cocktails. She instinctively gave the man a smiling look. That lasted for a second and probably dragged by the head and ear, but it was, and Vic saw it clearly.